Diary
by SlytherinChick
Summary: Cho is still mourning over Cedric. She's always miserable, until one day when she finally finds a way to be happy again. Someone will also never get a chance to be with her because of a tragedy that happens.


Chapter Four:  
Ignorance

Yorkshire was cloudy, dank, and melancholy. Even during a bright Christmas holiday, there were no lights, no candles, no ornaments, or any other colourful sign that something was being celebrated. A bitter breeze brought clouds over a large estate, the largest on the lonely street. It was gated with iron bars that had a grand calligraphic "R" encrypted into it. The house had nearly two-dozen rooms, but only a few windows were lit.

A fireplace lighted the sitting room. A pretty middle-aged woman with long black hair sat in an armchair while she watched her husband pace back and forth in front of her. Her husband is a tall, proud, well-kept man with dark hair and a stern but pleasant face. He was muttering to himself and clutching a small black book in his hand. Every so often, he would open the book and read it.

"What news?" The woman asked in a low, soft whisper. Her voice was silvery, almost song-like and enchanting.

Her husband did not answer right away.

"Ioan? What news?"

"I don't know what to tell her, Lei. She's tampering with two boys. One of whom she cannot get too close with. The other is well protected," Ioan shook the book in Lei's face. "She is not following what was told of her. Already I can see something will go wrong."

Lei took the book. "What did she say? I can't read what she's writing you. You need to tell me."

Ioan stiffened. "Our daughter is sounding narcissistic as usual. She is telling us that she is adored and no one can keep their hands off her. Well, the boys can't at least. She's made fast friends—" He paused and shook his head.

"That's nothing new to hear," Lei gave a small laugh. "She always grabs the attention of those around her."

"Yes, we may use that as an advantage, but at the moment it may propose to be a problem."

"Why? As a father are you feeling protective over your daughter? What has Nathara done that is so problematic?"

"As a father, of course I'm always worried for her, but not for that reason. Do you know who she's beginning to get close with? Not only has she begun to bond with Draco Malfoy, she has yet to develop a friendship with Harry Potter. It will be a distraction."

Lei patted her husband's hand. "You worry too much. Just keep track of her whereabouts, keep her updated with us, give her the necessary advice, and let her do what she must."

"But she's going to get out of hand—"

"You have yet to trust our daughter? Nathara's fine. She always comes out in the end with a job well done," Lei stood and produced two cups of apple cider with her wand. She handed one to Ioan. "Merry Christmas dear."

The two of them drank in silence, staring into the crackling fireplace.

"Nathara spoke with Cho recently." Ioan suddenly remarked.

"What?" Lei nearly dropped her cider and stared wide-eyed at Ioan.

"Well, it was more of an argument of enemies than a conversation between cousins. You don't need me telling you how that meeting ended up."

"When was all this?"

"Just recently, during the visitation to Hogsmeade. Cho apparently came to visit her old school friends and Nathara was having tea with Draco Malfoy."

"It's pathetic," Lei whispered. "Cho and Nathara were so close when they were little. They were the ones that bridged our feuding families together. Now look at them; enemies, and Cho being brainwashed into cruelty by my brother."

Ioan kissed her forehead. "We're better off without them. They soon need to be rid of anyway."

Lei looked up at him with sad eyes. She knew very well what he was speaking of. "What do you mean?"

"We cannot tolerate them anymore, Lei. Now that Nathara and Cho no longer speak, that bond between our families is broken. The Changs know a great deal about us. It is best that they are rid of. I'm sorry."

It was exceptionally sunny on Christmas morning at Hogwarts. Nathara woke at dawn and looked at the girls around her. When the low rumble of snores from the girls assured Nathara she was the only conscious one, she picked up a small parcel at the end of her bed and opened it. It was her journal with a rather lengthy letter from her father folded neatly in the front cover. Nathara scanned through the first few paragraphs, sighing and rolling her eyes at her father's warning of not being too friendly with anyone and to be cautious. The letter of preaching ended with a solemn, _"Do not forget why you were placed at Hogwarts. We all entrust you with this duty. Also, we cannot keep sending your journal between us so frequently. Write in it at will, but send it to us no more than twice in one month. I will reply within one week. With all our love, take care." _

The journal was then tucked away into her trunk and a massive pile of Christmas gifts awaited her. There were so many that nearly half had to be placed on the floor. The majority of senders were admirers pledging their lust and asking for her love. Assortments of beautiful flowers and wreaths hung themselves on the wall. Chocolates and pastries that were enough to last throughout the winter were paired with cards and poetry. Still, with so many wonderful flattering gifts, none amused her. On the contrary, she was searching for gifts from people she actually knew; Pansy, Harry, Draco… But she was disappointed to discover nothing from them.

With the sudden thought of Draco on her mind, she wanted to visit him and hoped he would be in the common room. She quickly dressed in a new cream coloured sweater, black cotton leggings, fur boots, and headed down. To her disappointment, Blaise was sitting by the fire alone, eating a chocolate frog.

"Well good morning my princess," Blaise smiled, stood, and gave a deep bow. "You're up quite early this _lovely_ Christmas day. Can I offer a chocolate frog?"

Nathara scowled. "You're very unimpressive and no thank you, Blaise. I've received enough chocolate from you this morning."

"Ah, so you did receive it. I didn't think you would notice with all the other gifts in the way."

"Yes, well—have you seen Draco? Is he up yet?"

Blaise sat down and frowned. His wide grin had disappeared. "I don't understand why you are so amused by Draco Malfoy, out of all people. He isn't at all that popular, to be honest. Are you the type that's in it for the money or what? I would have expected you to be in the spotlight with—oh—Harry Potter."

"How dare you! That is none of your business. This is why I take no interest in _you_, Blaise," Nathara huffed. "You're nosy, rude, and desperate. But I am thankful for the gift. Now have you seen Draco or haven't you?"

"I haven't. He left for home yesterday with all the others. Don't worry, princess. He'll return for you soon enough," Blaise retorted sarcastically and began eating a mince pie.

"Pig," Nathara breathed and left the common room for the Great Hall. She was heated and felt like throwing snowballs at a tree until she spotter Harry entering the Great Hall.

Nathara quickened her pace and followed him. She ended up sitting at the Gryffindor table along with Hermione and Ron.

"Hello," She said cheerfully. "Merry Christmas. You lot decided not to spend the holidays at home?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione nodded.

"It's our last year. We figured we'd stay and spend as much time at Hogwarts as possible," Said Ron.

"Understandable. Are you planning anything special today? If you are, well, I suppose I can go spend time with Blaise," Nathara wrinkled her nose in disgust. "But if you aren't, Harry, I was wondering if you'd like to have that walk with me."

"Erm," Harry glanced sideways at Hermione and Ron, searching for an answer.

"If you'd rather do it another time, that's fine with me as well," Nathara added quickly.

"No, today's perfectly suitable," Hermione nudged Harry. "We never really plan to do anything anyway. Just sit around the common room."

Nathara's eyes brightened. "Fantastic! How about after breakfast, Harry? Or perhaps a trip to Hogsmeade?"

"Yeah, sure."


End file.
